


Chance Meeting

by Persiflage



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Law & Order: UK
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Alesha meet a rather strange man in the pub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: I was merrily writing a sequel to "Aftermath" when another plot bunny bit me and insisted I write this. Since my brain is at the mercy of my plot bunnies I obeyed!  
> Beta: lj user fourzoas  
> Spoilers: Assumes you've seen Doctor Who S3 and Law & Order: UK up to 1.05.  
> Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK. The BBC owns Doctor Who. I got nothin' except too many plot bunnies!

"Martha!" said a man's voice happily, just to Alesha's right as she watched James trying to attract the barman's attention.

"Martha?" said the man again, more doubtfully this time. The voice was almost in her ear, and she turned, startled by his proximity.

"Excuse me?" she asked, taking in his brown eyes and wild brown hair.

"You're – you're not Martha," he observed, his voice and expression tinged with disappointment.

"Alesha Phillips," she answered, looking him up and down as he loomed over her. Like James, he wore a suit and tie, although the tie was pulled loose and his top shirt button undone, offering a small glimpse of a t-shirt beneath it. He wore a long brown coat, damp like his hair, over his blue suit, and he looked about 35.

"I don't suppose you have an identical cousin called Martha Jones?" he asked, sitting down, uninvited, in the chair to her right.

Alesha frowned, puzzled by the question. "No."

"Huh. I guess you're her doppelganger then."

"Sorry, but who **are** you?" she asked, wondering if he was a bit mad.

"Dr John Smith," he answered, his manner more cheerful as he offered her his hand. "But you can call me the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" she asked doubtfully as she shook hands.

"Yep!" he said.

James sat down on her other side. "Who's your friend?" he asked, setting down their drinks.

"The Doctor," he answered, reaching across the table to offer his hand.

"James Steel," he said, shaking hands.

"I'm afraid I mistook Alesha for a friend of mine. They could be twins, actually," the Doctor said. "And since Martha lives not too far from here, when I saw Alesha outside, I decided to follow her."

"Are you meeting her here, then?" asked James, wondering why the man had such sad eyes, even when he smiled.

"Nope!" answered the Doctor. "She has no idea I'm here," he added more quietly.

"That seems a shame, now you're in the neighbourhood," Alesha observed. "Why don't you give her a ring and invite her to join you, or something?"

"I don't think she'd be interested," the Doctor said.

"But – " she began.

"Don't badger the man, Alesha," James said; there was something more than sadness in the man's eyes now: regret or guilt, he thought.

She looked at James, startled, then focused her attention on her drink. "I'm sorry."

The Doctor put a hand on her arm, ignoring the fact her coat was wet. "It's okay," he assured her quietly. "You remind me of Martha, not just in looks." He smiled at her. "You're not a doctor, are you? Martha's a doctor, a rather brilliant one, actually."

She met his eyes, seeing his pride for his friend in them, before shaking her head. "No, I'm a solicitor advocate with the CPS. James is my boss."

He nodded his understanding. "Not an easy job," he observed.

"Easier than being a defence lawyer," James answered.

The Doctor nodded again. "I bet that gave you sleepless nights."

James looked startled by this perceptive comment. "It did, quite often," he admitted. He remembered the case that had sent him fleeing to the CPS: defending a triple rapist. The case had come at the same time as his son Ethan was born, and it had been the final straw. He'd defected to the CPS with alacrity. Of course, that hadn't stopped his marriage falling apart when he'd allowed himself to become consumed by his work.

He focused his attention back on the man opposite him and saw sympathy and understanding in his brown eyes. He became conscious of Alesha's knee pressed against his as they sat crowded around the table in the busy pub, and he realised, abruptly, that she cared about him a great deal.

"So, what do you do, Doctor?" he asked before taking a mouthful of his Scotch.

"Oh, a bit of this and that," he answered easily. "Mostly lots of running for my life, some negotiating with villains, the occasional overthrowing of tyrants, and the odd bit of sight-seeing."

Alesha gave him an uncertain smile, then glanced sideways at James, convinced now that the Doctor was definitely a bit mad.

"When you started that list, I wondered if you were a secret agent," James said. "But I'm pretty sure secret agents don't have time for sight-seeing."

"Me, work for the government?" The Doctor looked horrified at the idea. "I work for myself, for the betterment of the universe."

Alesha's mouth opened slightly before she snapped it shut again. James blinked a couple of times, a frown pulling harsh lines around his mouth and eyes.

"The 'betterment of the universe '," he repeated. "Not the betterment of humanity?"

The Doctor frowned in turn. "Why should I limit myself to only bettering you lot?" he asked, his tone sharpening. "You may be one of my favourite species, but you're not the only ones in the universe, you know."

 _Completely mad,_ thought Alesha as she quickly finished her drink. This man was unsettling her, and she couldn't help feeling that the sooner they parted company with him, the better.

"Are you saying you're an alien?" asked James quietly.

The Doctor lifted his eyebrows at them, but didn't actually answer.

"But – " began Alesha disbelievingly.

"So, if you're an alien, what species are you?" asked James, ignoring Alesha's murmured "Don't encourage him."

"Time Lord. I'm the last of them, in fact."

"Sounds a bit pompous to me," Alesha retorted.

The Doctor looked stunned, hearing her echoing Martha's words to him when he'd told her who he was.

"Are you okay?" asked Alesha anxiously, forgetting how unsettled he was making her feel in the face of his stricken expression.

"I – " He swallowed hard, looking away from the compassion and concern in her eyes. "Martha, the friend I mentioned earlier, she said something very similar to me the day I met her." He stood up abruptly, and James and Alesha followed suit.

"Right. Well, I should be going. I've got tyrants to overthrow, people to save, and all that jazz."

He held out a hand, and Alesha took it, squeezing his fingers before shaking it. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be," he answered. To her surprise and embarrassment he ducked his head and kissed her forehead. "Be magnificent," he said in her ear.

The Doctor straightened up and offered his hand to James, who shook it firmly as the other man leaned across the table and spoke quietly by his ear. "She's worth taking a risk on. Don't let your fear get in the way of your happiness, James Steel."

The next moment he was gone, slipping through the crowd of City types towards the door, leaving James looking stunned, to Alesha's surprise; she wondered just what the Doctor had said to her boss.

"Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly as he sat down again.

He nodded, looking at her intently, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Do you want to go and get something to eat?" he suggested.

She gave him a startled look, surprised by the novelty of his suggestion; they'd only eaten together once before, the night they'd been researching Slade's prison career, and that had just been some Chinese take-away in the office. She remembered that night well: she'd rung him as soon as she got home from work, worried about his state of mind when he'd left the office earlier, and he'd told her about his encounter with Slade. She had immediately insisted they meet for a drink, and it was a measure of how upset he'd been that he'd agreed promptly.

"Well, I would, but I've left dinner cooking at home. I use a slow cooker," she elaborated. "But you'd be welcome to join me." Her smile seemed shyer than usual.

"I'd like that," James answered, finishing his Scotch, then standing up again. He slung his bag onto his shoulder, then grabbed his umbrella.

They made their way out of the pub to find that it was still raining, so he put up the umbrella, then drew Alesha closer so that it covered her too.

"Where to?" he asked.

"This way," she answered, gesturing up the street, away from the office.

They set off, and James concentrated on matching his pace to hers, remembering that her stride was necessarily smaller. He felt as if the Doctor's words had heightened his senses so that he was far more conscious than before of the scent of Alesha's perfume, the slight pressure of her hand on his arm, the quiet sounds of her breathing and the louder noise of her heels on the pavement. He felt hyper-aware of the brush of her body against his when the press of other people around them pushed her closer against his side. He was also aware of a growing urge to pull her into his arms and press his lips against hers, to kiss her until they were both breathless. But, despite the Doctor's words, he wasn't sure that kissing Alesha would be a good idea; he was her boss after all.

"Do you think the Doctor really was an alien, a Time Lord, like he said?" she asked, breaking the silence as they waited at a pedestrian crossing.

They looked at each other. "No way." They spoke in unison, then laughed.

"Of course," he said slowly, "there was that thing with Big Ben."

She nodded. "Yes. And the metal men at Canary Wharf and those pepperpot things."

They looked at each other again, then he shook his head, and they walked on until Alesha directed James up a side street; she stopped about half way along, fishing her keys from her shoulder bag. She unlocked the door, then stepped inside, kicking off her shoes. "Come in."

"Thanks." He stepped inside after shaking the worst of the rain from his umbrella.

"You can put that in there," she said, indicating an old-fashioned coat stand with an umbrella holder on the base.

He furled the umbrella, then dropped it into place. They shed their coats and scarves, then James looked down at Alesha's pristine carpet. "Do you want me to take my shoes off?" he asked.

She nodded. "If you wouldn't mind."

He set down his bag, then wrestled briefly with the rain-soaked laces before taking the shoes off and putting them alongside hers.

"You can leave your bag with mine," she told him. "Come through to the kitchen."

He shifted the bag to rest beside hers, then padded through to the kitchen, which was well-lit and painted in pale blue and cream.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked. "Take a seat."

"Yes, please." He sat down on a chair and watched her as she sorted out coffee beans, water and mugs for their drinks.

She spoke without turning around. "I can feel you staring."

"Sorry," he answered contritely.

"What did the Doctor say to you before he left? You looked quite shocked."

He debated how much to tell her, nervously aware of how rubbish he'd become at personal relationships. "He told me not to let my fear get in the way of my happiness," he said.

She turned and arched a quizzical eyebrow at him. "That's a bit of an odd thing to say to a virtual stranger, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Another reason why I thought he might be an alien – it was almost as if he was telepathic, or something."

"So what did he mean, about your fear getting in the way of your happiness?" she asked, setting down their mugs of coffee. "Let's take this through to the other room. Dinner won't be ready for another twenty minutes."

He nodded and followed her back into the hall, then into a surprisingly large sitting room decorated with different shades of green wallpaper. He resisted the urge to look at the shelves laden with books, DVDs and CDs and sat on the sofa instead, stretching his long legs in front of him. Alesha sat close by, tucking her legs underneath herself, and gave him an expectant look.

He remembered her question and dropped his eyes to the mug he cradled, not quite daring to meet her gaze. "He was talking about us," James answered. "He said you were worth taking a risk on." He risked a glance up at her face and saw she looked both pleased and surprised by this revelation.

"He really said that?" she asked. She was sitting close enough that he could see her blushing, despite her darker skin.

"He did," James answered. He was feeling fairly close to blushing himself.

"Do you – I mean, I didn't know – " She stopped, clearly unsure how to say what she wanted to say.

"I like you a lot, Alesha," he said quietly. "You're an attractive young woman, clever, and yet also caring. But you're over a decade younger than me, and I am your boss. That's why I've never said anything."

She tilted her head, looking puzzled. "But you invited me out to dinner this evening, and you've come home to have dinner with me."

He nodded. "I don't know if a relationship between us would work – quite apart from anything else, we're both pretty married to our jobs. And I'd have to tell George, so that he knows that there's no coercion on my part. But, if the idea doesn't revolt you, I'd like to give it a go." He glanced away from her intent gaze. "You've given me the impression that you care about me, but if you don't think about me in that way then that's okay – we'll just forget this conversation ever took place."

He heard her set her mug down on the coffee table and glanced up to see her shifting closer, so that her shoulder was pressed against his.

"I don't want to forget this conversation," she said quietly.

He smiled and set his mug down too. He put his right arm around her shoulders and took her left hand in his, and when she lifted her head, he leaned in to kiss her gently. She shivered with pleasure, feeling butterflies dancing in her belly. As James deepened the kiss, Alesha couldn't help feeling grateful for their chance meeting with the Doctor; alien or not, he'd done her a favour.


End file.
